Goodnight, Castiel
by ironcaptain4245
Summary: Dean was always the cuddly type. He would never admit that to anyone, but he was. Especially the ten minutes before he could get coffee in the mornings, or if he was woken up by a certain angel in the middle of the night. And besides, a person to share body heat with was much more efficient than a blanket, or in this case, a trench coat. [Set in Season 6]


Goodnight, Castiel.

Sam and Dean had just finished hunting vampire nest outside of Denver, Colorado. They decided to hit the bar for a few hours. They had heard that this vamp knew a lot about souls, for a reason that Dean didn't want to know. Turns out it was a bust, and Sam was no closer to getting his soul back, but right now Dean was just happy they made it out of there with just a few minor cuts and bruises.

When he got back to the motel that he and Sam were staying at, he bought himself another room. Sam had been giving this brunette the silent "how you doin' " all night, and scored. Hey by all means, go to town on each other, but he was in no mood to sleep in the car. Sorry, Baby, but today he prefered a bed.

Dean walked out of the motel office and into the cold January air. He pulled his leather jacket in tighter and walked to his room, 104. He threw Baby's keys onto the nightstand and crashed as soon as he hit the bed, too tired from the hunt that day to care about going under the covers. A decision he would later regret.

He woke up in the middle of the night shivering like crazy, since these damn motel rooms didn't have heating worth crap. He just wrapped his jacket tighter around himself and tried to fall back asleep. He would've gone under the covers, but he was too tired and it seemed like a lot of work. Just as he was about to fall asleep, he heard the familiar flutter of wings. Then he felt something being laid on top of him that felt way too much like a trench coat.

Dean was always the cuddly type. He would never admit that to anyone, but he was. Especially the ten minutes before he could get coffee in the mornings, or if he was woken up by a certain angel in the middle of the night. And besides, a person to share body heat with was much more efficient than a blanket, or in this case, a trench coat.

He rolled over and grabbed Cas in his arms and rolled him over so that he was curled around him in a protective position, trapping him in his arms.

Cas made a grunting noise, and a small smile played at his lips.

"You weren't asleep."

Dean pulled Cas closer to him, soaking in the warmth.

"What do you mean, Cas? I just turned on to my side. It happens all the time."

"Then why are you talking?"

"It's called sleep-talking Cas. Google it."

Cas just chuckled and melted into Dean.

"You know Dean. There is something that I have been wanting to say to you."

"Oh yeah," Dean mumbled, "What's that?"

"I think I may have found 'my type,' as you call it."

Dean chuckled, and pulled back to look Cas in the face.

Cas looked up at him with those blue eyes. It was only then that Dean realized just how stunning Cas was. How had he never seen it? His black hair was ruffled; his jaw just a bit stubbly, and suddenly he wanted to run his cheek along it. And those eyes, God those eyes... Don't get him started on those.

"Really? What is it then?"

Cas paused for a moment before he answered. When he did, he said it very slowly and carefully.

"You. You're my type, Dean."

The affect it had on Dean was instantaneous. He blushed for the first time in a long time, and suddenly they were kissing. Cas's lips were soft, but a little chapped. He tasted like nothing he had ever tasted, a bit like sweet grass and sunshine. How that was possible, Dean wasn't sure. All he knew was that for someone who had never done the deed, he was an amazing kisser.

They kissed for a long time. Finally they separated, and saying that Dean felt giddy was a total understatement. They laid there for a while just listening to each other breathe, until Dean started drifting off to sleep, finally warm and beyond happy. As he dozed off, he felt the blankets being pulled over the two of them, and thought he heard Cas say something that sounded a hell of a lot like "I love you," but he wasn't sure.

Cas, for some reason, fell asleep with Dean. Maybe he did just for Dean's sake, since he didn't have to sleep. In the middle of the night, Dean woke up to Cas wrapped in the blankets, laying on his back.

Dean groaned and elbowed Cas, waking him up. "Damn it, Cas. You gotta share the damn blanket."

"My apologies, Dean."

Cas moved over to Dean and sprawled on top of him. "Is this better?"

Dean rolled his eyes and gently pushed the angel off.

"Just share the freaking blanket."

Cas chuckled and handed Dean his share of blankets.

"Thanks," Dean mumbled as he took them.

"Goodnight, Dean."

Dean pulled Cas to him so they were spooning, and kissed his angel on the back of the neck.

"Goodnight, Castiel."

They both fell back asleep.

Morning rolled around, and Cas not-so-surprisingly was the first to wake up.

"Dean it's time to wake up. Good morning."

Dean hugged Cas tighter and mumbled his good morning into Cas's neck, breathing deeply into his black hair. Suddenly, Cas left, surprising the hell out of Dean. He sat up, grumbling about Cas's freaking timing skills, but before he you could say "pig n' a poke," Cas was back with coffee. Dean took it gratefully, and sipped it, feeling the warmth spread throughout his body, all the way to his toes. Even with the mid-night fiasco, Dean had the best sleep he had ever had. He stood up, set the coffee on the nightstand, and pulled Cas close, so they were touching all the way down, Dean's hands on Cas's hips.

"I heard you last night. What you said when I was falling asleep."

Cas blushed. "I'm sorry, Dean."

Dean smiled and looked down at his angel.

"It's okay, Cas," he said, kissing Cas on the forehead, "I love you too."


End file.
